


Winning Stratagems

by Witchtomez



Series: Mysme Halloweek 2018 [9]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Mysmehalloweek 2018, Supernatural Elements, dokkaebi - Freeform, prompt: haunted, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-08-28 13:21:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16724199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witchtomez/pseuds/Witchtomez
Summary: With the Choi household under an otherworldly  assault, Vanderwood takes it upon himself to deal with yet another mess.Negotiation wasn't new for Vanderwood; though generally, both participants would bealive...





	Winning Stratagems

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, I didn’t want to make so many multi-parters, but this story follows ['Chaos Stratagems'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16722057) which was for the prompt ‘Supernatural’ and you do kinda need to read it to see what’s going on here. I wasn’t planning on it initially, but I realized this allowed me to play with a character that I haven’t seen many touch on. I know it’s a bit of a read, but I hope it’s at least interesting. Thanks in advance.

An unsettling tension and disquiet currently held control of the Choi Household; neither occupant had slept well in weeks.

At first, Saeyoung had thought the nightmares were understandable given everything his little brother had suffered before his rescue, and they had seen improvement in the decreasing frequency after the first few months.

But as of late, the nightmares had returned _tenfold_. Worse yet, the nightmares were drawing deeper from within their memories than usual. There had been several nights where Saeran had awoken in a cold sweat, screaming apologies through tears and arms folded protectively over his face until Saeyoung could pull him out of the illusion.

The very first time Saeyoung had rescued Saeran from a night terror in their home, Saeran had struck him in the face before remembering that his rage had been based on constructed lies. When Saeran mumbled an apology after the fifth occurrence, Saeyoung had grinned because progress was progress.

Now? Now, Saeyoung actually _missed_ those nights; the blows to his face were far less painful than the wrecked sobbing that tore at Saeran’s throat and the painfully worn-down fingernails clutching desperately at the flesh of his back, seeking comfort that couldn’t reach him.

Vanderwood had noticed something was very wrong when the house was actually quiet, even though both brothers were out of their rooms. The twins were now even sporting identical eye bags and Luciel didn’t even have the energy to be annoying; just kept smiling weakly when addressed. Saeran was struggling so hard to stay conscious, jerking and darting his eyes wildly like a cornered animal.

Every attempt to investigate the matter was met with exhausted, shaky sighs. Vanderwood visibly blanched when Seven had merely shot him an apologetic smile and a tired “…It’s complicated…sorry, partner,” without so much as tacking on a cheeky ‘madam’. He wordlessly left a bottle of Klonopin on the table top and exited through the front door.

.

.

.

* * *

He returned to the property half an hour later with a bag of higher quality food and alcohol than the norm, walking around to the side of the house; it was best to bring gifts to ask favors.

“Ah! Vanderwood! What have you brought me this time?”

It was the Dokkaebi friend that had taken up residence, now affectionately named Crumb. The former agent held up the hefty bag of provisions, giving the goblin cause to hop excitedly.

“How are things going lately?” He asked, taking the cork out of the ceramic jug of Chinese Plum Wine. Extracting matching cups from his jacket pocket, Vanderwood poured a generous amount in one before handing it over to the creature, which giddily emptied it with flourish.

“Funny you should ask, friend! Some pushy gwisin hag has taken to causing a racket when I’m trying to relax out here!”

He froze for a second—gwisin were much **bigger problems** if he remembered correctly. Shaking his hair back over his shoulder, Vanderwood resumed placing the meat buns on an unrolled bamboo place mat before presenting it to his drink mate.

“That so…what’s she look like? Just your typical ghost?” The creature nodded, stuffing a third of a bun between his fangs.

“Pretty much…though maybe a little weirder: Crazy red hair instead of the usual black; really obnoxiously loud—I was going to ask you to help with that, actually,” Crumb elaborated between bites, washing down the savory mouthfuls with more wine. Vanderwood raised an eyebrow at the admission.

“Me? How can I help with that stuff? I’m still alive and would like to keep that way as long as possible if you don’t mind…”

There was a sudden drop in the temperature as though an icy veil had descended over them: The dokkaebi’s expression fell flat with irritation while Vanderwood coughed as the frigid air stabbed at his lungs. Seeing his immediate discomfort, the goblin tapped his human friend on the chest with one long finger and heat began to bloom and overtake the sharp pains. Resuming his regular breathing rhythm, Vanderwood nodded his thanks.

“I take it we have uninvited company?” He rasped, coughing to bring moisture back to his throat. With an annoyed click of his tongue, Crumb confirmed his suspicions.

“ ** _I have more right here than either of you!_** ”

The voice was shrill and brimming with resentment; her hissed indignation slid over their ears like broken glass.

The sun finally began to sink beyond the horizon, the last vestiges of warm light disappearing with it, leaving the shadowy specter of what could only be the Mother Choi. Though her wispy form was gaunt and ragged, there was no mistaking the unruly red tresses that draped about her frame. Her teeth were bared beneath her curling lip, eyes alight with scornful fury.

“Save your shrieking, hag. I really won’t forgive you if you make my food turn sour!” Crumb snapped, thoroughly put out at this rude interloper.

“How _dare_ you!? My own blood lives on this property, so I hold power here! What right do a pair of squatters have to this place?!” she spat, an icy fog manifesting with her rising temper.

The dokkaebi harshly set his cup of wine down, rising to his feet and brandishing his club menacingly.

“You go too far, human wretch! Friend, hear me—use your summoning tablet and look for a haetae!”

Vanderwood nearly choked on his wine, trying to figure out how to de-escalate the tension before the icy mist threatened to spread and cause more trouble. Extracting his phone, he pulled up an image of the haetae statues placed around the National Assembly building and saved it before turning his screen off; doing the mental math, an idea occurred to him—but it would ultimately depend on the possibility of negotiation.

“Before this gets out of hand, can we at least at least see if we can come to a compromise?” he interjected, drawing the attention of the warring spirits before him; Vanderwood sighed, vaguely wondering why he put up with all this weird shit by having Saeyoung in his life. The wraith drew herself up rigidly, scoffing with disdain.

“Why should I?” she demanded. Despite the chill that threatened to hook into his bones, Vanderwood maintained his cool demeanor; ghost or not, haughty people were _exhausting_ to put up with.

“Because if you don’t, my friend will give you a legendary creature of justice to contend with; Not that I’m an expert or anything, but I’m not sure how well a talk with a haetae will go—“

“—It’ll attack her,” Crumb answered with a crooked grin, ‘show me the image so I can summon it!”

Holding up a gloved hand, the former agent asked for patience while keeping an eye on the hostile spirit; she refused to show fear at the possibility that the dokkaebi was right, save for the death grip in which she held her folded arms.

“Hold on, friend; let’s hear what reason she has for keeping the underworld waiting—Ma’am, if you would, please? I doubt there are many who will offer you this chance to air your grievances.”

There was a terse silence; the ghoul’s sunken eyes glared at both of them until the man produced a small bowl and poured a little wine before setting it across from him. Understanding that it was for her, she lowered her misty form toward it and clicked her tongue.

“Tch! Finally someone produces an offering for me!”

Exchanging a look with the exasperated dokkaebi, Vanderwood raised his eyebrow but chose his words carefully.

“Is that what this is about? Offerings?”

“Among other things! Do you realize I have been dead for three years and not once have either of those selfish bastard sons of mine even lit incense or offered prayers for me!?”

“You must not have been much of a mother,” snickered the goblin as he bit into another bun. Before the woman could launch into a fit, Vanderwood held up his hand to direct attention back to himself.

“Hold it—Ma’am, are you aware of what your sons have suffered after your death?”

Her look of indifferent disdain was clear.

“What does _that_ have to do with anything?”

Remembering what he had been told regarding Luciel’s past, a gradual heat began to burn its way through Vanderwood’s chest that had nothing to do either non-human entity’s abilities.

“Given that I have saved both of their lives at least once, I would have hoped that you would care…’ he muttered evenly, ‘—but then I suppose you are exactly as described.”

The goblin watched the proceedings curiously; he’d only ever known his human friend to be generous and easy going, so the current situation had brought forth a new side that was quite fascinating. Crumb kept silent as Vanderwood corked the wine jug and set the food behind him while squaring his shoulders and sitting up formally.

“…and that would be…?” the woman challenged, lips twisted in disinterest.

“Details aside, let’s just say it’s rather odd to demand food in death when you would starve your children in life,” Vanderwood answered, his tone clipped. The dokkaebi’s eyes boggled and his jaw fell open; pointing his club at the visibly enraged specter, he seemed to grow another several centimeters.

“You dared to call yourself a mother, you dog?! You had better hope the haetae _devours_ your soul before King Yeonma gets it!” Crumb cackled gleefully as Vanderwood let a small smirk tug at the corner of his mouth. The air turned sharp and crackled with cold electricity as Mother Choi shook with rage.

“Let’s move on—we’ve established you’re still walking the earth for revenge; is there any other reason you’re now withholding peaceful sleep from your boys after all the torture they’ve already experienced?”

“I just want what’s owed to me! I birthed them and let them live until they were stolen from me!”

“Lady, I’d be careful about seeking entitlements based on job performance.”

There was another tense silence before Vanderwood drained his cup and set it down purposefully. The ghost darted her eyes between the man and goblin mistrustfully before locking on to the human who was oddly at ease in this unnatural scenario.

“—so, revenge then. I have a suggestion if you’re willing to hear it.”

The woman stilled, reluctantly curious about where he was going with this.

“The boys have a father who is doing rather well, don’t they?

The icy mist dissipated and was replaced with a violent flurry of wind.

“SAEJOONG CHOI!!”

Vanderwood balked, recognizing the name immediately.

“–?! Saejoong Choi— _the prime minister_ —?! Shit!” the words had escaped him before he realized it, setting off a tantrum in the spirit that matured the shivering breezes into sizable gales.

“THAT MISERABLE FUCK IS HELPING RUN THE **_COUNTRY_**!? I SHOULD HAVE ENDED HIM BEFORE HE COULD LEAVE ME SADDLED WITH HIS SPAWN LIKE A _COMMON BROODMARE_!”

The gusts tore through the yard, ripping leaves from the trees and rustling the plastic bag as it threatened to take to the air. The Dokkaebi had had enough; he turned his club and slammed it down with finality, shattering the spell with a booming thud that reverberated in the stone walls around them.

“Thanks,’ Vanderwood coughed, shaking the dirt from his hair and shoulders; then to the specter, ‘–all right, now that I know you’re interested; I have a proposition that should satisfy both of us: I will help you find the prime minister and you will leave this place and your kids alone from now on. “

The goblin raised a bushy eyebrow, not expecting this turn of events. The ghoul made a show of breathing slowly, still coming down from her outburst; snapping her eyes to Vanderwood, she gave him an appraising glare as she deliberated silently.

Vanderwood breathed slowly, keeping eye contact; he really wanted this to work.

“It’s either that or I let my buddy call the haetae over to handle you—then your chance of revenge disappears along with any hope of that man facing justice.”

That did it; Vanderwood fought to restrain his victorious smile as her face twisted malevolently at the thought of letting Saejoong Choi get away unscathed. Still, she hesitated before addressing the proposition.

“…Just how are you going to help me find him? Wouldn’t he be well protected in all those lofty ivory towers?” she snorted, feigning disinterest. Instead, Vanderwood smirked openly while pulling out his smartphone.

“Even the nobility have to come mingle with the commoners to keep up appearances—according to his social media, he’s due to attend an “inspection” of some of the dilapidated slums in Yeongdeungpo district this week…ah, here—they’ll be filming him at 14:05 this coming Monday. Hang around there and you should have no problem getting your hooks into him—“

The air rippled; then all went silent as sunlight seemed to fill in the empty space around them—she was gone.

Vanderwood leaned his head back against the side of the house and let out a long sigh of relief. Retaking his seat next to the man, Crumb patted Vanderwood’s forehead with a raspy chuckle.

“That was something, friend—you truly are made of strong stuff for a human!”

“It’s been a hell of a life, Crumb,” he snorted in response, fishing out the bag of snacks.

The dokkaebi put away his club and helped replace the spread they’d had set up earlier. Taking a fresh cup of wine, Crumb took a small sip before contemplating his human companion for a moment.

“…Why did you not let me summon the haetae and get rid of her immediately?”

Vanderwood paused before taking a bite of rice cake, chewing slowly as he considered his answer.

“Well, for one—the image I pulled up is very large and in a very public area; it’d be too much trouble to have it suddenly appear here in this tiny yard,’ he answered, finishing the snack and washing it down. The goblin nodded in understanding, but kept his attention on the man, waiting for the rest of the explanation. Vanderwood caught the look and set his cup down.

‘…and for another, there’s a proverb that I’m fond of: ' _Kill with a borrowed knife'_. I didn’t know the full details until just now, but I figured there had to be a reason my partner came into my line of business despite being a child at the time—being one of a pair of illegitimate sons to a corrupt politician more than explains the willingness to take the risk.”

Hearing this, Crumb bit into at dumpling and chewed thoughtfully, recalling mentions of his friend’s dangerous past from earlier conversations.

“Mm…but did you not let me take my first meal from this partner of yours? He’s not your enemy then?”

Truthfully, the creature already knew this not to be the case, but he was curious about his human friend and what other traits he seemed to guard so carefully.

Vanderwood clicked his tongue, coaxing a cigarette from his pack before answering.

“Tch—no. He’s an ass and a brat, but he _is_ a good partner. The problem is he’s too damn clever and knows it…little shit still calls me ‘madam’ knowing I don’t like it,’ he said, scowling sourly while his drink mate barely concealed a toothy grin.

After a second, Vanderwood sighed, ‘…but that’s just kid-stuff. I can deal with that, it’s obvious neither one of them really got the chance to be kids going by the chat with that _darling mother_ of theirs—so I put up with it. But I’m not above letting him suffer a little karma once in a while if you get my meaning.”

Snickering, the dokkaebi set his cup down, nodding in satisfaction.

“Friend—procure a set of haetae soon, I will vouch for you on behalf of my benefactors so we will have less to worry about in the future.”

Vanderwood almost had the cigarette to his lips before he put it back down; there was a genuine gratitude and modesty in his smile, quickly obscured with a false cough.

“—Ahem—yeah, way ahead of you, Crumb. I have a link to a nice granite set I found. I’ll go in there and have him order once he’s sleepy enough…but thanks...I appreciate the good word.”

Laughing heartily, the goblin raised his cup to the man who did likewise.

“To a negotiation well arranged!"

* * *

.

.

.

Weeks later, when the Choi twins were thankfully much better rested, Vanderwood managed to catch the news while running a vacuum over the floors.

_Apparently the Prime Minister had fallen ill._

**Author's Note:**

> [Gwisin](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gwisin)
> 
> [Haetae](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Xiezhi#Korea)
> 
>  
> 
> Both titles of this piece and the first part are references to the [Thirty Six Stratagems](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thirty-Six_Stratagems) which is an ancient essay used to illustrate stratagems used in war, politics and civil interaction.
> 
> Chaos Stratagem - "Remove the Firewood from under the pot”
> 
> Winning Stratagem - “Kill with a Borrowed Knife”


End file.
